Dan Murray

My Grandpa, Bob, was an avid outdoorsman and gun dog lover. One day he planned an outing with a friend of his who was a part-time dog trainer, and he invited myself and my brothers along. We were introduced to Tom Ness and his dog Strike, and I guess I made an impression. Tom saw how much I enjoyed his dog, and how I never gave up on the birds. Tom was generous enough to hire me even though things were probably a little tight having three young children to care for. I began part-time work at Tom’s Oahe kennels at the tender age of thirteen and life hasn’t been the same since.

Beginning as a pooper-scooper I worked my way up the ladder, eventually training gun dogs for 8 years with Tom. During that time I turned down a basketball scholarship at the University of Mary, and instead began a career in direct sales selling vacuum cleaners door to door. (Yes, vacuum cleaners. I’m the polite-looking guy with the skinny tie you slammed the door on!) To some that might seem like a short-sighted career choice. But direct selling put food on the table for my young family, and just as important, taught me patience, persistence, and belief in myself-excellent traits to have as a professional dog trainer.

Years later, when I began guiding pheasant hunts for Tom, part of my pay package was the pick-of -the-litter from one of Tom’s English Springer breedings. Jen and I selected a pretty little liver and white female and named her ‘One in a Million.’ I trained her up and Millie became an open champion in her second year of trialing, winning seven blue ribbons in a half-dozen trials. A short while after picking Millie, we got a cocker pup named Emma, then Reggie, then Louie, then Rosie, then a few more, and then the Spencinator, or ‘Spencer’ (only this time Spencer would arrive in the form of a black, English Cocker Spaniel).

I remain intrigued by the way dogs smell, slobber, fart, bark, poop anywhere, and destroy personal property, while never exceeding the average intelligence of a three year old, yet somehow remain a necessary and compelling part of our lives. Here-in lies much of my motivation as a spaniel breeder, trainer and handler. I know what a pleasure it is to own and hunt over a well-trained, obedient, and happy gun dog, one who is both partner, companion, and best friend. A gun dog that is, as my grandpa used to say, “True. Whole. And Complete.” This then is our goal at Absolute.

The other day I was driving home from a great day of walleye fishing with my son, Daniel, who is 8. He was busy re-living a moment on the boat when the excitement in his voice caused me to look over at him. I saw a few more freckles coming in on his eye lids, his toothy grin, his sun-bleached hair and sunburnt ears. In the middle of his story he looked up at me with those innocent green eyes of his and fell silent. Right there we both understood that days like this are what a father and son live for.

It will come as no surprise to some that these are the same feelings that we get from our dogs. Moments when looking into their eyes we realize this is what you and they live for, and that all in all, life is pretty damn good. For this appreciation, both to my family, and to the dogs, I am grateful.